


It Takes A Village

by biextroverts



Series: Spacekru 7 + 1 [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Babies, Canon Compliant, Children, F/M, Gen, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 09:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11079111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biextroverts/pseuds/biextroverts
Summary: Murphy and Emori have a child while on the Ring; the entirety of Spacekru raises it.





	It Takes A Village

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by skaicrew on tumblr's post of Parent!Memori headcanons and by the fact that I've read several similar posts and fics to that but had not yet come across a single work that referenced the saying "it takes a village to raise a child."
> 
> Sonia is a real contemporary name that apparently comes from the Greek word for "wisdom," but the naming of the child in this fic is a result of me running through all the D.C. landmarks I knew in my head and coming up first with the SmithSONIAn. I think I'm terribly clever.
> 
> A note on chronology: I'm imagining that Sonia is born about a year into the seven aka Spacekru's time on the Ring, so there's that. Her fourth birthday comes nearly five years post s4, so around the time Clarke expected Spacekru to be coming back to Earth - ask me about my s5 theories, if you want.

          The moment Emori goes into labor, Murphy chases everyone except Bellamy from the room. He considers for a half-second the irony of the fact that preadolescent Bellamy's experience with his mother's childbirth has prepared to the man to follow so thoroughly in Clarke Griffin's footsteps as to be providing doctoral assistance, but then Emori is gasping in pain is Murphy is back at her side, allowing her to clutch his hand as tightly as she needs in order to handle the pain of her contractions. It's a long – day? night? who knows, time doesn't really have any meaning on the Ark – eighteen hours of the ebb and flow of agony, of Emori's screaming and Murphy's worrying and Bellamy's anxious hovering, before the infant finally slides from Emori's body and Bellamy cuts the cord and wraps the child in a blanket and hands it to Murphy and all three of them collapse, Bellamy in the chair beside the dressing table, Emori on the bed where she has been sitting, tense as a bowstring, since her contractions started, and Murphy beside her, back against the wall.

           “Well,” Bellamy says, after a moment of silence punctuated only by heavy breathing and the crescendo of a reedy wail, “you did it. Congratulations, Emori.”

           “Thank you,” Emori says, offering Bellamy a weak smile. Murphy rocks the baby in his arms, humming to it absently, and Emori props herself up to get a better look at it. “What is it?” she asks.

          Murphy peers under the blanket. “It's a girl,” he says. Then, “we have a daughter, Emori.” Emori smiles at him, her wide eyes gleaming with the same kind of awe he feels, just thinking about their child, and he leans down and kisses her, feeling her upturned lips against his own.

           “A daughter,” Emori says. “Can I –?” She sits up and holds out her arms, and Murphy gently passes the baby to her. She folds her arms around it, its head cradled in the crook of her elbow. “What should we name it?” Emori asks. “I mean her. What should we name her?”

          Murphy shrugs. “Beats me.” He looks at Emori. “What do you want to name her?”

          Emori thinks for a moment, lips pressed tight together, as she considers the baby. “Sonia,” she decides.

          “That's a great name,” Murphy says, placing a hand below Emori's, underneath the baby. He smiles down at his daughter – at their daughter. “Sonia,” he says, smiling down at the infant, “welcome to the world.”

* * *

 

          Sonia starts fussing halfway through dinner, and Emori sets down her cutlery and stands to go retrieve her, surprised when she realizes that Harper has done the same. Her hand goes immediately to her hip, where she still keeps a knife hidden. She glances at Harper's plate, which is closer to full than her own – Harper doesn't eat like she doesn't know when her next meal will come, or like she knows her present meal could be taken from her hands at any moment if she saves or savors it. But if Harper is not finished with her food, as Emori almost is, then what has made her think that it is her prerogative to take Emori's baby from her? “What are you doing?” Emori asks.

          Harper holds up her hands, a gesture of surrender. “I volunteered in the nursery on the Ark. I have a way with babies.” She juts her chin in the direction of Emori's abandoned plate. “And you need to finish eating, so you can keep up your energy, and keep producing milk.”

          Emori shifts from one foot to the other, considering. From his seat beside hers, John tugs on her hand. “C'mon, sit down. Finish your food.” He looks at Harper, eyes narrowed. “Be careful with Sonia,” he tells her. “If she gets hurt, I'll come for your ass.”

           “I'll be careful,” Harper says. Emori sits down beside John again, and Harper goes to the crib, picking up Sonia delicately, one hand under her head and forearms beneath her body. Harper begins to pace the floor, bouncing Sonia in her arms and humming softly. She begins to sing. “Hush, little baby, don't say a word.” Her voice is sweet and feminine, but with a hint of throatiness to it. She carries a tune excellently, and Emori notices Monty's eyes shining with pride. “Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird.”

          “Where the hell am I supposed to get a mockingbird?” John asks, and Harper shoots him a warning look, as does Emori, because Sonia is already quieting slightly in Harper's arms.

          “And if that mockingbird don't sing, papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring,” Harper sings; Emori watches John with a look that says “speak, and you're dead, or at least sleeping on the couch for the next week.” John meets her eyes, swallows, holds up his hands, and says nothing, and Harper continues her lullaby, walking in circles around the hall. “And if that diamond ring turns to brass, papa's gonna buy you a looking glass. And if that looking glass gets broke, papa's gonna buy you a billy goat. And if that billy goat don't pull...” Slowly, Sonia's cries die down to nothing and the baby starts sucking on her thumb, nodding off against Harper's chest. Harper carries Sonia back over to her crib, setting her gently down, and Emori smiles tentatively, but gratefully, at Harper.

          “Thank you.”

          “No problem,” Harper says, returning to her own seat. She looks at Emori's plate, which has remained untouched since Harper picked up Sonia. “Finish your food,” Harper reminds Emori, who rolls her eyes but picks up her fork and knife and digs back in to her 401st algae salad supper. In the crib at her back, Sonia sleeps peacefully once more. 

* * *

 

          “There's something moving under the control panel,” Monty says, and Raven looks at him like he's high, or possibly crazy.

          “Huh?”

          “There's something moving under the control panel,” Monty repeats.

          "Then get down there and see what it is.” Raven sounds impatient. “Unless you wanna watch me trying to get to my hands and knees, which I can promise you wouldn't be a pretty sight, and even less fun for me.”

          “Right.” Monty gets down from his seat to kneel on the floor, placing his hands in front of him and ducking his torso so he can stick his head under the table. He doesn't see anything at first, so he crawls a few steps forward and peers further into the darkness. And there she is – just like her parents, getting into things she shouldn't be getting into. Although maybe that's just babies. “Sonia!” Monty calls, and the little girl turns her head to look at him. She appears eerie against the dark beneath the table, especially crouched as she is with something clasped in her hands – Monty can't quite make out what. She looks like Gollum from the Lord of the Rings movies. “Sonia!” he calls out again, “what have you got there?” Sonia holds out the thing in her hands with pride – a long, thin, rubber-coated wire, Monty realizes. Shit. Murphy had said Sonia was teething as her canines and molars came in, and, to a one-and-a-half year old, those wires probably looked like the perfect thing to chew. Which they might have been, if they weren't full of electricity.

          "Sonia!” Monty says. “Drop the wire.” Sonia squeezes the wire in her tiny hands. “Drop the wire,” Monty repeats, slower. Sonia plays with it, and doesn't oblige him, or even give him a hint that she understands what he's saying. Monty drops to his belly and worms his way as far under the table as he can, until he's just close enough to Sonia that he, too, can take hold of the wire. “The wire bites,” he says, gnashing his teeth. He mimics getting shocked, and pulls one hand away. “Ouch,” he says, and Sonia's grip on the wire loosens. “Good girl,” Monty says. He drops the wire with his other hand, and Sonia lets it fall from one of hers. “Come on,” Monty says, “come towards me.” He gestures for Sonia to come to him. “Come on,” he says again, and Sonia slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, drops the wire. “That's right,” Monty says, trying to make his voice sound enthusiastic, excited; kids, he knows, respond best to positive reinforcement. As carefully as he can, he begins to wiggle his way back towards the light; it's slow going, but he can't turn around in the cramped, low-ceilinged space, and besides, he needs to keep his eyes on Sonia to make sure she's following him, which she is. When he gets himself most of the way out from under the table, he tugs Sonia forward and into the main part of the room with him, then stands, and picks up the child, settling her on his hip, one arm beneath her to keep her from falling, and one around her back to support her body. “It's time to get you back to mom and dad,” he says to her. “I'm sure they're worried sick about you.” He turns his head to look at Raven, who has apparently been watching Monty's adventures under the table with some amusement. “Rae,” he says, “can you make some sort of teething toy for Sonia? A safe one, without electricity in it? I don't want her trying to chew on wires again, even if they are coated in rubber.”

          Raven gives him a salute. “Sure thing,” she says. “If Sonia were to die on our watch, mommy and daddy would kill us in our sleep, and I, too, would like to avoid that. I'm too young and beautiful to die.”

          “Thanks,” Monty says. He turns to the door. “I'll be back in a few; I've gotta get Sonia back to Murphy and Emori now.”

          “See ya,” Raven says.

          “See ya,” Monty replies, and he carries Sonia from the room. 

* * *

 

          “And here are her diapers, and her stuffed dog, and a few board books, if you need more obviously you know where I live, and –”

          “Murphy.” Raven lays the hand not supporting Sonia on Murphy's shoulder. “We'll be fine. I'm not gonna let anything happen to your child, and Emori should start getting better in a few days, and then you'll have Sonia back by the end of the week, and it'll all be fine. Okay?”

          “Okay,” Murphy says, taking a deep breath. He nods at Raven. “Thanks for this, by the way. You're the only one Emori trusts to be alone with Sonia for any significant amount of time.”

          “It's no problem,” Raven says. She grins wickedly. “Give me three days, and I'll turn this kid completely against you, Murphy, have her wrapped around my little finger instead.” At Murphy's concerned look, she burst into laughter. “I'm kidding. Go worry about your girlfriend's cold. Sonia and I will be here.”

          “Thanks,” Murphy says again. He slings his satchel full of toys and supplies over Raven's shoulder, gives her another nod, and ducks out of the doorway, no doubt hurrying back to the apartment he shares with Emori so he can hover over her while she assures him that she's going to be fine. Raven looks down at Sonia, perched on Raven's right hip, the top of her head level with Raven's shoulder.

          “Your dad's fucking weird,” Raven says. “I hope you know that. Anyways, let's get you settled in, kiddo.” Raven moves to the bedroom and sets Sonia down on the bed, then gets to unpacking Murphy's satchel on her dresser. Murphy has dramatically overstocked her to keep an eye on his child for a couple of days; there must be about four dozen diapers, half a dozen board books, and a detailed set of instructions on feeding, clothing, and otherwise caring for Sonia written in Murphy's sloppy and poorly-spelled handwriting. Raven rolls her eyes. She's been living on the Ring with Sonia and Sonia's deeply devoted parents for two years now, so she knows most of the kid's routine, and if Murphy expects her to read to Sonia when Murphy and Bellamy and Harper have already got that covered, then he's crazy. Raven's gonna do real shit with Sonia – or, at least, shit as real as you can do with a two year old. No explosions, probably, but like – hide-and-seek, or something. Raven picks up the instructions from Murphy and skims them, just in case there's something in them that she doesn't know (there isn't), then faces Sonia, ignoring the instinct to kneel down so that she's eye level with the child because she values the limited ability remaining in her left leg. “So,” she says to Sonia, “what do you wanna do?”

*

          “Here you go,” Raven says, handing Murphy the satchel with the remaining diapers, the board books, and the stuffed dog (“Clarke,” according to Sonia, a piece of information which stuck like a wrench in Raven's gut when Sonia informed her of it), and nudging Sonia gently towards her father. “The kid and all of her stuff, and all in one piece, as promised.”

          “Thanks, Raven,” Murphy says, crouching down to embrace his daughter as she toddle-runs towards him. “Hey, Sonia,” he says, his voice paternally soft in that way that Raven has honestly still not gotten used to, “how's my girl?”

          Sonia gives Murphy two thumbs up. “We played hide-go-seek,” she informs him. “I won.”

          “Of course you did,” Murphy says, ruffling Sonia's hair. “And were you good for Raven?”

          “Yeah.”

          Murphy looks up at Raven to confirm this, and Raven nods. “She hid under the bed once, but that's only kind of her fault; I forgot to tell her not to hide someplace I'd have to get down on the floor to find her.”

          Murphy contorts his face in sympathy. “Sorry.”

          Raven shrugs. “You weren't hiding under my bed.” She turns to Sonia. “I've got some work to do, but I'll come around again later this week and we can play some more hide-and-go-seek, all right?” Sonia nods. She gives Raven's knees a quick hug, and then returns to her father's side. Raven nods at Murphy. “See you at dinner.”

          “See you at dinner,” Murphy says. “We're having the algae salad special today.”

          “Surprise, surprise,” Raven says, and Sonia laughs. “Bye, Sonia!” Raven calls out.

          “Bye, Raven!” Sonia responds. Raven waves, and Sonia waves back, and then follows her father as he turns to head down the hall. Raven leans in the doorway and watches them go, thinking vaguely fond thoughts she never would have expected herself to think about Murphy and his offspring. Next time, she promises herself, she'll take Sonia on a tour of the engine room, make a little mechanic out of her. But for now, as she feels a rush of the week's pent-up exhaustion course through her body, she decides to go back to bed.

* * *

          Murphy has been wandering the hallways of the Ring for a little while, thinking about nothing in particular, when he turns a corner and suddenly finds himself in front of Echo and Sonia, both sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of one of the large windows that grants the Ring's occupants a depressing view of Earth. He stops in his tracks, immediately tense and alert, preparing to fight if he needs to do so. “What are you doing with my daughter?” he asks, not hostile, and only the slightest bit accusatory, and Echo looks up like a deer caught in the headlights, while Sonia smiles at the sight of her father and calls out his name, running to wrap her arms around his thighs in a hug.

          “Teaching her Trigedasleng.” Fear flickers in Echo's eyes for a moment, and she sets her jaw. “Emori said I could.” She and Murphy watch each other for a moment, like animals sizing up a threat; when Echo seems relatively certain that Murphy isn't about to assault her, she pats the floor in front of her, indicating Sonia should return to her seat, which she does, and turns her attention back to the girl. Murphy leans against the wall, watching the pair. “Yu laik Sonia kom Skaikru,” Echo says slowly, pointing at Sonia.

          “Yu laik Sonia kom Skaikru,” Sonia repeats.

          “No, no, no. Ai laik Echo com Azgeda. Yu laik Sonia kom Skaikru.”

          “Ai laik Echo com Azgeda; yu laik Sonia kom Skaikru.”

          “No.” Echo closes her eyes and tilts her head back, taking a deep breath. She tries again, wincing a little as she speaks. “Ai laik Sonia kom Skaikru.”

          “Ai laik Sonia kom Skaikru.”

          Echo's face melts into a smile. “Yes,” she says, “yes! You are Sonia kom Skaikru.”

          “I am Sonia kom Skaikru.”

          Murphy meanders his way over to where Echo and Sonia sit and folds himself down beside his daughter. Echo's eyes flick over to him.

          “What are you doing?”

          “You seem to be an effective teacher; thought I could stand to learn some Trigedasleng, too.” Murphy looks down at Sonia. “Hey, baby girl,” he says. “Daddy's gonna take some lessons, too.”

          “Ai laik Sonia com Skaikru!” Sonia tells Murphy proudly, and he ruffles her hair fondly.

          “That's you, baby.”

          Echo coughs, and Murphy and Sonia look back at her. “Continue,” Murphy says, spreading his arms in a half-ironic magnanimous gesture.

          Echo purses her lips at Murphy, but acquiesces. “Yu laik Murfi kom Skaikru,” she says.

          “Ai laik Murfi com Skaikru,” Murphy repeats.

          Echo nods approvingly. “All right,” she says, turning her focus once more to Sonia. “Ai laik Echo kom Azgeda en ai nou na bash yo op. Yu laik –”

          “Ai laik Sonia kom Skaikru enai no bashyop,” Sonia tries.

          Echo sighs. “Ai nou na bash yo op,”she repeats.

          “Ainou na bish yo up,” Sonia says.

          Echo shakes her head, but smiles at Sonia. “We'll get it eventually,” she tells the girl. She looks up at Murphy, and offers him a half-smile as well. “After all, we've got a whole year more in space.” 

* * *

          “So, Sonia, what are we gonna read today?” Bellamy asks, and Sonia, who has been sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of his chair, scrambles over to the bookshelf. She pulls out a hardback, and returns to hold it out insistently to Bellamy, who takes it from her, flips it around so that it's facing right-side up, and reads the title. He raises an eyebrow and smiles. “ _Puss in Boots_? Really? We read that yesterday.” And the day before that, and the day before that … Sonia is going through what Bellamy hopes is only a phase.

          “Read it again,” Sonia commands, her voice full of the same simple certainty as her mother's, and Bellamy holds his hands up in surrender.

          “Okay,” he says, picking up the book and turning to the first page. “ _Puss in Boots_ it is.”

          Emori wanders into the room, and takes a seat on the floor beside her daughter. “What are you reading?” she asks Sonia. Bellamy holds up the book so Emori can see. “ _Puss in Boots_ ,” Emori reads. She looks down at Sonia. “Didn't you read that yesterday?”

          “We're reading it again,” Sonia says. Emori bites her lip dubiously and looks at Bellamy, who shrugs.

          “Kids go through phases like this sometimes,” Bellamy says. He smiles. “O had a phase once where she wouldn't listen to any story but Cupid and Psyche. That one went on for a while, too – it was like two months where I couldn't tell her any tale but that.”

          “Hopefully this phase doesn't last two months,” Emori says.

          “I don't expect it will,” Bellamy says. He looks down at Sonia, who has her arms crossed over her chest and an angry look on her face. “Though we better stop talking about not wanting it to last; Sonia is almost as obstinate as her parents.”

          “Obstinate?” Emori asks.

          “Stubborn,” Bellamy tells her.

          “Ah.” Emori smiles and runs her overlarge left hand through her daughter's hair. “We've taught her well,” she tells Bellamy, who chuckles.

          “We all have,” Bellamy says. Emori narrows her eyes, looking for a moment as though she is considering contracting him, but then her face relaxes and she nods, smiling.

          “We have.”

          “Read the book,” Sonia demands, and both Bellamy and Emori laugh. Bellamy turns his eyes to the page and begins to read, turning to the book towards his audience in between every spread he reads, so that Sonia can see the pictures. She's got parts of this book memorized by now, and Bellamy notes that he should start trying to teach her to read soon. If she's anything like her mother, who Bellamy and Murphy had taught to read when they first arrived on the Ring, she'll pick the skill up quickly, especially if they start with _Puss in Boots_ – Murphy and Emori's little girl is perhaps unnervingly captivated by the story of the cat who helps its master con his way into royalty, tugging on her mother's sleeve and urging Emori to pay attention at her favorite parts, which come frequently. When Bellamy finishes reading and closes the book, Sonia looks plaintively up at him and says “again.”

          Bellamy laughs and shakes his head. “Once a day is as often as I'm willing to read the same book, princess,” he says, handing her the book to take back to the shelf. “If you wanna read something else, though, I'd be happy to keep reading with you.”

          Sonia turns back from the bookshelf. “No,” she says, shaking her head. She grabs Emori's hand and attempts to pull her mother up. “Come on, mommy, let's go play with Raven.”

          Emori laughs and gets to her feet. “Let's go,” she says. She turns to nod at Bellamy before being dragged away. “Thank you.”

          “My pleasure,” Bellamy says, nodding at her with a smile, and then Emori and Sonia have disappeared out the door and around the corner, leaving Bellamy staring out at the moon from the floor-to-ceiling window behind the bookshelf and thinking about how soon it will be safe for them all to return to Earth, and for Sonia to have her homecoming at last. 

* * *

 

          “Happy birthday dear Sonia, happy birthday to you!”

          The seven finish singing, and watch fondly as Sonia blows out the imaginary candles on another algae salad. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” Bellamy says, ruffling Sonia's hair.

          “I can't believe she's four already,” Raven says. “Time flies.”

          “It's been almost five years we've been up here,” Harper says, a little wistfully. Monty rubs circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

          “Her next birthday, she'll spend on Earth.” Emori speaks with certainty, and not a bit of pride. “Where I was born.”

          “Where we met,” Murphy says, squeezing Emori's hand and looking at her fondly. She smiles with equal fondness back at him.

          “What do you say, Sonia?” Raven asks, sitting down across the table from the girl. “You wanna see Earth?”

          “I've seen Earth,” Sonia says.

          “Do you wanna see the ground?” Bellamy asks, coming to sit beside Raven. Sonia seems to give the matter some thought before she nods solemnly.

          “Yes.”

          “Well, you'll get your chance pretty soon,” Murphy says. He scoops his daughter up. “A belated birthday present. You're gonna love food that isn't algae salad.”

          “That's what I miss most,” Emori says.

          “Me, too.” Bellamy's voice goes rough. “Well, after Octavia. And...” He doesn't say “Clarke,” but they all know he's thinking it; they've all though it at various points over the past five years. Bellamy shakes his head, dispersing the somber thoughts that lies in danger of putting a sour mood over the whole celebration. “Murphy's right,” he tells Sonia. “You're gonna love Earth food.” He look at the little girl, considering. “You want a piggyback ride?”

          “Yeah!” Sonia says. Bellamy crouches down in front of Murphy so that Sonia can climb onto his back, and, when he's sure she's secure, he takes off around the room. Sonia's peals of laughter fill the air as Bellamy makes airplane noises to accompany the ride, not that Sonia really knows what an airplane is (not like any of them have ever seen one).

          Suddenly, another sound, like a bell tone, pierces through Sonia's joy. Bellamy lets Sonia slide off his back and stands up.

          “What was that?” he asks.

          Raven stands and begins to pace the floor. “Someone docked,” she says. She winces as a bolt of pain runs up through her leg, and sits back down at the table. Bellamy comes to sit across from her, and Sonia next to him; the other five hover behind Raven like scared children behind a mother.

          “Docked?” Emori asks, leaning forward and looking into Raven's face.

          “On the airlock.”

          “Who?” demands Echo. She bites her lip. “The only people left alive are us, and the twelve hundred in the bunker at Polis, and I don't think they have access to a spacecraft.”

          “They don't,” Bellamy confirms.

          “So who's docking?”

          “That,” Monty says, “would be the question.” He looks at Raven.

          “Don't look at me,” says Raven. “I don't have a clue.”

          “Is there any way you can check from in here?” Murphy asks. Raven looks up at him where he hovers over her left shoulder. “I mean, are there camera feeds in the guard room or something? Or Earth Monitoring Station?”

          “There used to be,” Harper says. “In the guard room.” She looks at Raven. “Are there still?”

          “I don't really spend time in the guard room,” Raven says. “We haven't been using it. But I think so, yeah. If we can get them powered up and turned on, we can see what's going on outside from in there.” Raven stands up, and the crowd behind her steps back to allow her space. Bellamy and Sonia stand as well, Bellamy holding Sonia's hand. “Harper, Monty, with me,” Raven says, “we'll go get the cameras and the camera feeds up and running.” She looks across the table, then adds, “Sonia, you too,” and, seeing the protest forming on Murphy's lips at the idea of being separated from his daughter, she adds “she'll be safer there.” Murphy nods. His arm is wrapped protectively around Emori, and hers around him. Raven turns to them. “Murphy, Emori, Echo, Bellamy, go find anything that could be used as a weapon in a pinch – that includes potential explosives. Hopefully we're fine, but I want us to be prepared to defend ourselves just in case.” The four designated nod.

          “We'll split up and search in pairs,” Bellamy says to his team. “Echo, come with me; Murphy, Emori, that way.” He juts his chin in the direction he wants Murphy and Emori to go, and they oblige, taking off at a quick pace, as do Bellamy and Echo. Raven turns to Harper, Monty, and Sonia.

          “Come on. Let's go see what it is that's making contact with us after five long, lonely years.”

**Author's Note:**

> I live for praise and feedback; please provide me with these.


End file.
